When I last wrote, things were
seemingly getting better; albeit slowly. Still, everything was being managed just fine and the infection appeared to be responding well to intravenous treatment of antibiotic. Then, I woke up (while still inpatient)
with the chills; it was previously planned I would go home that day... prior to the
events that were unfolding at a moment's notice. Suddenly, without
even the slightest of warning, I was wandering the vast mountains of
Antarctica in nothing but a tank top and shorts. There were not
enough blankets in the world to contain the numbing cold that
occupied every crevice of my body. My temperature shot up to just
under 104. It seemed the infection had progressed, and there was
certainly no question now that it had entered my bloodstream. The
usual people were involved in treating me, including Dr. Fishman, Dr.
Alomari, infectious diseases and the allergists.
The next few days were utter hell as we
fought to control the infection. I couldn't get out of bed to use the
bathroom; when I stood up, it felt as though I was in a wind-tunnel.
Standing would simply not suffice, for I could not maintain balance
of any sort. Bed pans were a staple throughout this time period. Even
getting my shivering body up on the bed pan was a challenge in
itself, especially given where the infection was located (my back
thigh). My energy was tossed completely, and lifting my head was
something that seemed to be a tremendous feat.
The only time I would start to feel any
relief was when the oxicodone, morphine,and moltrin were administered and started to
kick in. Eventually, though, my fever would progress back to its just
under 104 state, and the unrelenting chills would return along with
the dizziness, nausea, intense headache, all over achi-ness, etc. Not to mention the thigh infection itself... My body wasn't done surprising me yet, however. I woke up the following day with two huge clots, one in each arm. They as well were infected. I wish I was joking. No doctor had ever seen anything like it before and are still having difficulty grasping the concept of how this may have occurred.
When people see my leg, they think it
is just my leg that is impacted by this lovely condition we call
Klippel-Trenaunay Syndrome. Fair enough, but for those of us who know
better, we know that is far from the truth. We know it can get into
our bloodstream and cause sepsis, travel to other realms of the body
and wreak utter havoc. We know better, unfortunately.
I returned home from the hospital
yesterday afternoon and will be writing a lot more about my time
during my ten day stay. My KTS family as always pulled through for me
and were the most incredible support group I could have asked for.
Never could I have imagined people with such endearing hearts and
souls being there for me day and night, that which I am incredibly
grateful for. Think of this as somewhat of an introductory post.
My KT loves, whether you are a family
member of a patient or a patient yourself, may you be at peace right
now. If you are not, may your pain soon subside. May you know you are
not alone and have a bundle of people in your corner at all times, no
matter how isolated you may feel from the outside world at any given moment.
Love always,
Arianna
No comments:
Post a Comment